Halfspeed
by trickygrin
Summary: Post series...SPOILER for anime. Summary? Meryl walks Vash up to his room to find something thoroughly unexpected.
1. The Dark and the Cold

**Title: Halfspeed  
Author: trickygrin**  
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Notes: This is a surefire way of distressing for my week of Hell, paperwise. If you feel the need to r/r (which is totally awesometastic by my count), please take this into account and be gentle with this poor out-of-the-loop ficcer. Takes place sometime after the series. More later. Also, for the purposes of this fic I have given Meryl a slightly younger sister, though I can't recall if she actually had any siblings in the anime or manga.  
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He couldn't understand what she was saying, for one thing. It seemed odd?he could recall having heard he yelling at him frantically only a moment ago, but now all he could hear was a buzzing noise just behind his face. Just behind his skull. Somewhere in the narrow recesses of his mind he was aware that something had gone horribly wrong, but he couldn't process that.  
  
He'd been singing, hadn't he? Something sweet and short, something he'd heard on the radio in the bar downstairs. He'd sung there too, drunkenly, along with Millie as they worked their way up the alcoholic alphabet.  
  
Downstairs? He'd made his way upstairs, still singing along, off-key and not caring one whit. Something about barmaids and dropping pitchers, he thought, though he couldn't be sure at this point just what the song had actually been about. Or even if that was the song that he was thinking of. For some reason, he could feel his thoughts slowing down and spilling all over his front, his back?  
  
Flash   
  
Where had he been?  
  
Flash   
  
He had walked up the stairs, holding the wall to keep it steady. Under his breath he kept muttering the refrain to Millie's new song. From the bar below, he could still hear her banging away at the piano, a rousing chorus of drunken voices lifted to pay homage to the piece she had chosen. Catchy.  
  
Pausing for a moment to orient himself, Vash decided that perhaps the best course of action was to simply head to bed, rather than stargaze like he'd been planning to do. Inebriated as he was, he could easily see himself plunging over the edge of the roof and landing in the Thomas trough below. That would be difficult to explain to Meryl the next morning, assuming of course that he didn't drown in the slop.  
  
her voice was soft behind him.  
  
Straightening, he paused for a solid one-count before turning to face her. He hoped he didn't actually just say that, he sounded drunk! Wiping his mouth absently, he asked her, You goin' to bed too? Nope, he definitely sounded drunk. Shit.  
  
You're drunk. Flat voice, flat expression. The disapproval rolled off of her in waves that kept him rocking....or perhaps that too was the alcohol. How much had he actually drunk?  
Prolly a little--not too much...I'm still standin'. He wobbled.  
  
Here...let me help you, she caught his arm, yanking it over her shoulder and huffing slightly as he put his weight on her gratefully. I'd yell at you, but I think I'll wait until you're sober enough to appreciate it, she muttered under her breath.  
  
_Hic._ _Hic...  
  
_Fumbling through his pockets ineptly, Meryl sighed heavily and batted his hand to the side before diving in herself with a little disparaging remark that sounded suspiciously like,   
  
Emerging triumphant and a little embarrassed to be rooting around down there, she flipped the key into the lock and turned, leaning against the doorframe as the door itself swung into the room.  
  
_Hic.  
_  
The room was black, but to his befuddled senses it seemed too dark. Meryl, seeming not to sense the cloying nature of the black within the room, shouldered him once more and leaned in the room to flip the light on.  
  
_Click.  
_  
The room remained dark. She cursed, again under her breath. Flipping it twice more to no effect, she paused for a minute to readjust herself and haul Vash into his room.   
  
_Hic.  
  
Creak.  
_  
The sound came from the far side of the room, the sound of someone readjusting their weight on the old sand-soaked boards of the inn's floor.  
  
Meryl had been in many dangerous situations of her own, and she knew how to handle herself in times of trouble, but she had Vash, who while being aware of the danger itself, seemed incapable of action.  
  
Who's there? She cut the quaver out of her voice before it even started. She and Vash were silhouetted and easy targets, if they had been in immediate danger it would've been over before she'd even been aware of the danger. I know you're there.  
  
_Hic._ She didn't spare a glare for Vash, who cupped a hand around his mouth apologetically.   
  
There was another creak, but no answer to her question.  
  
But Millie was downstairs, could in fact, still be heard crooning over the damping effect the cold darkness before her.   
  
_Creak. _Whoever it was, was seriously creeping her out.  
  
Vash let go of her and adjusted himself against the doorframe, freeing up her hands. Making another apologetic motion towards the room, he motioned to her cape. His gun was on the nightstand just out of reach, it's iron barrel glinting dully by the window.  
  
It was a voice, this she knew, it sounded like sand, dripping softly against the walls of the hourglass. It sounded almost like a laugh...but who or what laughed so softly and carefully?   
  
Moving carefully, she slid a derringer out of it's holster, keeping her eyes darting around the room. Where was it coming from?   
  
I should warn you, I am known in these parts as Derringer Meryl...I have quite a reputation. She tried not to squeak. Beside her, Vash had stiffened, staring into the black at something that she couldn't quite make out. Something that seemed to lack form, flowing from deepest shadow to reform underneath another patch of sticky black. Like tar.   
  
The quiet dry laughter continued. Was it even laughter? What was this?  
  
A-and this man is the fearsome outlaw, Vash the Stampede.  
  
Vash stiffened. Was he even drunk anymore? A part of her noted the speed that he had recovered, and the rest of her shook in terror at something in the dark that pressed at her. Keep your head, Stryfe. Whatever this is, you've handled worse...' Why was she so scared? Was Vash feeling the same?   
  
Who's there? His slur was gone, his eyes bright and hard as he pushed himself off of the frame, wobbling almost imperceptibly before steadying.  
  
It was that goddamn laugh again, and she was furious with the ludicrous nature of this whole situation for a second. They'd been drinking...everything had been quiet for a deliciously wonderful amount of time...they'd begun to let down their guard.  
  
It spoke, interrupting her thoughts, it's voice sounding like something that had been left outside for too long, as dead and cold as the room in which it now resided. Vash? So you're the Stampede now... Its voice rattled for a second as it started to laugh again, the sense of sand lost. Downstairs, Millie seemed to be singing at halfspeed, her voice as muted as if she'd been several buildings down.  
  
Who are you? His voice was frigid, and the arm that clenched her derringer shook slightly. Every sense of hers was tingling with fear and anticipation, so much that she seemed to fill to the brim with shakes. Any minute now she might spill over, erupting as a quivering, and god forbid, useless mass on the floor. And then...they would die. She could feel that too. More so than in many other circumstances she'd been placed in, she could feel that if she lost herself now, she'd die and Vash with her.  
  
What was going on?  
  
Me? I'm nobody special. You, on the other hand, are the Stampede.' She could feel a sharp grin at this, her imagination bringing forth sharp ivory teeth smirking like the Cheshire Cat. I'm impressed. I'm meeting a celebrity.  
  
What do you want with me? Vash's arm had risen in this time to be in front of her, protecting her, pushing her back. But she was the one with the gun, and she hadn't been drinking. Leaning against his push, she held her ground firmly, causing him to quirk his mouth in frustration. Her gun remained steady.  
  
Nothing at all.  
  
Who sent you?  
  
No one. I'm a free agent, if you will. That awful laugh started up again, raspy enough to make her throat feel cracked.  
  
Then leave.  
  
Can't just yet. I have business with the young lady.  
  
Vash started. Meryl blinked. This was a twist neither had been expecting. The thing before them was apparently not an ordinary bounty hunter or thrill seeker then.  
  
  
Yes, miss. I have a delivery for you. Something special. She could feel his smile, too wide and too bright, as it grated against her psyche. Very special. Shhhhh....  
  
Vash gave her a warning glance, still blocking her from the thing, which she promptly ignored.  
  
What is it?  
  
Something flew a corner of the room and thumped wetly to the floor before her. There was a shuffling series of creaks as the thing in the darkness readjusted its position, but she ignored all that and Vash's noises of protest as she leaned forward, her attention focused solely upon the item before her.  
  
It was a stuffed bear, it's homespun face staring somewhere into the darkness behind it, as if it too feared what lay behind it. The thing in the shadows continued to laugh as she bent to pick it up, a shuddering chuckle that seemed to shake it's frame to pieces.  
  
The bear was moist and sticky, and as she pulled one hand away in horror, it came away a faint brown in the yellow light. Copper flooded her nostrils, and she gagged as she dropped the bear on to the floor where it made a sickening splattering noise. With a small cry, she shuddered and dropped her gun, allowing it to bounce off of her shoe and clank against the wall. From the bear's new position, she could now see the ragged stitches up it's front where the stuffing had been ripped out and replaced with....something else.  
  
Like it? Shhhhh.... I made it myself. The voice was now in front of her, behind her, all around her, and the world swirled in varying shades of brown, black and yellow as she fell to her knees. Her stomach clenched and it took all she had to keep from expelling the contents of her stomach right there and then. But that's not all. I have another gift for you.  
  
Vash queried worriedly, keeping his eyes on the darkness and the voice knelt to try to help her up.  
  
To her horror, Meryl discovered that she was sobbing silently, her ragged cries cutting through the thick air and drowning out it's shuddering laughter.   
  
Do you want your gift? it asked, and without waiting for an answer she heard the soft click of a gun being aimed and primed at her. If her life had flashed before her eyes she might have recalled a statement much earlier about gunpowder and grease. If it had, she might've had a moment for a thought about brilliant blue, soft green, and thoughtful gray. As it was, she just stared dumbly into the black as something flashed...a gun presumably...and something to her side hurtled in front of her, before thumping back and slamming against the wall.  
  
Then silence.  
  
And finally that laugh.  
  
Well, I wasn't expecting that. Although I guess, that serves my purpose just as well, if I'm not totally mistaken. Continuing to snicker, steps came closer to her, stopping just before the teddy bear, the lower half of the creature's legs visible from the lit area of the doorway. Vash's legs sprawled in front of him, and Meryl stood beside that, staring in shock around her, at the thing before her, at her own inability to act now, at the teddybear to her side, at Vash...he wasn't moving, and seemed to be choking and gurgling as he tried to breathe. Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she breathe? Why couldn't she fight?  
  
Why wasn't it shooting her?  
  
Little girl, it's a pity you didn't take him home tonight, isn't it? Oh well, what's done is done. See you around. Turning around, the thing angled towards the window, finally silhouetted against the stars outside. All angles and points, deadly. She could feel that, could see it.  
  
And then she could move, found herself diving for the gun and firing two shots, right for the thing. Her shoulder banged against the corner of the wall, but she ignored the pain, instead watching in horror as the thing turned briefly towards her, giving her the first view of her assailant.  
  
Girl, we really don't need to be like that, the thing said, but she wasn't listening to it. Behind her she could hear Vash's struggled breathing as if he were right next to her, but she wasn't really hearing that either. All she could see was his face before her, his hawklike nose and tousled hair just as it'd always been. His shadow dangled behind him like a kite, whipping back and forth in the moonlight, crackling with energy and life.  
  
Wolfwood? Is it--is it really you?  
  
But he, or it, was gone, crashing through the window and into the night. A cool desert breeze wakened her from her stupor, blowing the angry black away and bringing everything into a sharp focus.  
  
Vash...  
  
Behind her, Vash moaned slightly, his voice dying quickly.  
  
She whipped around to find him lying in a pool of his tattered coat, his spikey hair slicked with sweat and blood around his face, much like a crown or a halo, gleaming in the faint moonlight. Oh my god, Vash! Her mind was a total blank on what to do, what had happened, what was going on as she screamed his name into the distance.  
  
FLASH   
  
What had happened?  
  
FLASH   
  
He'd been shot, he realized, playing the scattered memories of the past few minutes back. Shot. He'd been shot before though.... Hadn't he? Why was he taking it so badly? Why couldn't he see? Why was it so difficult to breathe?   
  
Most of all, Vash wondered as the world turned black and cold around him, he wondered why he couldn't tell Meryl that it was alright, that it all would be okay. Why couldn't he form the words? With her alarmed scream ringing in his ears, why couldn't he console her?  
  
As the dark took him, he recalled the feeling of the room before they'd entered. This was that feeling. Sticky, cold, and wet with black. And the space in between echoing his name,   
----  
  
Up next: Where, when and why? Meryl and Millie do some traveling.


	2. The Devil's Apprentice

**Title: Halfspeed  
Author: trickygrin**  
  
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Disclaimer: I DON'T WANNA WORK, I JUST WANNA BANG ON THE DRUM ALL DAY....and not work and I don't own Trigun or anything, really. Cept my maxxed out swank ass bike. But that's a whole nother story.  
  
Also, it occurred to me that Vash doesn't have his coat after the anime. Well, damn. Oops, but I like the coat, so it stays (for a bit anyways).  
  
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**Chapter 2: The Devil's Apprentice.**  
  
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Nobody was giving her a straight answer. Vash would be okay--they thought. No permanent damage--they hoped. He would wake up--if all went well. No hard answers, and the only hard thing left to do was to wait. Wait and see what would follow. And Vash? Vash had been in the midst of those non-answers for the past four hours. And no answers. She shivered slightly.  
  
Meryl wasn't good at waiting. Never had been, never would be, in all likelihood. Millie could wait, and had, for her letters, for Wolfwood to come back, for the search for water to yield something other than dust. She'd waited her entire life and was used to it. Meryl though, was more of an in the now' kind of person, surprising as it sounded.  
  
Ms. Stryfe? A kind faced orderly placed his hand on her shoulder, You should go get some rest.  
  
Her voice seemed tiny even to her, and she wished that somehow she could seem taller, bigger, less afraid. What had happened? What was going on?   
  
Normally when she was faced with a problem, especially when it involved Vash, she had more of a lead-in. Threatening letters in the mail, a few warning shots, something ominous and disturbing that made no sense. A warning of things to come. There were always warning. Except this time.  
  
What had happened?  
  
Thing's had been quiet for quite some time now. Millie and Meryl were kept as Vash's bodyguards' as a mere formality, and in Meryl's case at least, at her request. She kept Millie close to keep an eye on her, she had not really recovered from the loss of Nicholas, and Meryl didn't want to see her taken advantage of in this state. Bernardelli, all too happy for their outstanding participation in the whole Knives debacle, had granted the position to them without a second thought. On constant hazard pay, no less. And since they no longer moved from city to city like they had previously, the paychecks kept them all comfortable as they reevaluated what had occurred. Millie grieved, Vash rested, and Meryl breathed. As for Knives? When Vash had come back to town after their fight, he had Knives draped over his shoulder, unconscious. Since then, Vash had kept his comatose brother in the local plant, where the fearful being kept watch, ready to alert at his slightest move. The word had gotten out the Knives, while wanting to create an Eden for the plants had been willing to sacrifice one or two of his sisters in the attempt, and the plants were now cemented on Vash's side. Everything was blissfully quiet.  
  
Or at least it had been until earlier this evening. After she had screamed for his name, people had rushed out of their rooms, out from the bar below, all curious and vaguely worried. Vash was no longer considered an outlaw and his bounty had been removed, but everyone on Gunsmoke knew his reputation and of the whispers about July and Augusta. Rumors even went so far as to claim that he had blown the hole in the moon, but most discounted that as superstition. No mere man, devil or not, could wield so much raw power. It was more than likely just a resurgence of the lost technologies. More than likely.   
  
People had rushed up the stairs, surrounding her and gawking, but not helping until Millie burst in to find her sobbing and crying out incoherently over his broken body. It was only then that she, Millie of all people, threatened to start hurting people if they didn't go get a doctor, any doctor. And then the doctor had come and shook her head woefully, whispering something to the nurse next to her and having two men in the crowd handle the stretcher as they hauled Vash to the local hospital.  
  
Which is where she was now. The orderly had been talking to her the entire time she'd been here, trying to get her to lie down, to go to sleep, to go do anything but just wait here. But Vash had not come out yet, word had not yet come assuring her of his recovery, and until that happened, she didn't plan on leaving.  
  
Please ma'am? the orderly, whose voice was now a little ragged. Just like she felt. Please, just eat something or read something or just do--something. He was obviously new at this job, as she had to imagine that many people whose friends and relatives ended up in this ward had the same uncompromisingly empty look as she now bore. Shuffling his feet uncomfortably, he looked up and sighed, relieved. Oh, you're back! he breathed.  
  
Yes. I'm bringing Miss Meryl some food and drink. It was Millie, her voice seemed overly cheery in this environment and Meryl couldn't tell if she was overcompensating or if Millie's natural tone just seemed wholly inappropriate for this place. Without looking up, Meryl could hear Millie rummaging around in the sack she was holding, apparently fishing out some food for her. Miss Meryl, drink this.  
  
the orderly hesitated for a minute, There's no alcohol in this hospital.  
  
I know, Millie pressed a bottle into Meryl's hands, That's why I had to go back and buy some. Meryl took the bottle. Don't worry, I brought my own cups.  
  
No, I mean... but someone was yelling at him to come into the room where Vash was, and his confused protests were cut off.  
  
  
  
I know. But just sitting here won't do you any good. At the least, I think getting some whiskey in you will warm you up. Meryl realized that she was still shivering, but didn't think it was the chill of the room. She couldn't describe it to Millie though, not to her of all people.  
  
Millie didn't see Wolfwood. Meryl did. And while Meryl didn't know what to make of the whole strange situation, one thing that didn't need to be stirred up without any definitive proof was one Nicholas D. Wolfwood.  
  
But Wolfwood was dead. They had buried him, Vash had taken his cross up against Knives, had used it to break the tie between them and stop Knives from uniting and using both Angel Arms at once.  
  
They had buried him.  
  
And Meryl had seen him shoot Vash, had seen him crash out of his bedroom window. He had been looking for her, he said.  
  
This made no sense. Why her? She and Wolfwood had been companions, not close friends, and certainly not lovers like she suspected Millie and him had been, but they certainly hadn't been enemies. She didn't know what had gone between Vash and him just before the confrontation with Legato, but the dynamic had shifted. But even then they had still been companions.  
  
Why did he want to kill her? And if he wanted to kill her, why was he in Vash's room?  
  
What was going on? How could it be Wolfwood? Somewhere in the pit of her stomach the twin certainties battled. One, she knew they had seen him die. Two, she knew he had been in Vash's room this evening.  
  
And another certainty, one she had almost forgotten with the Vash-hospital concern. Wolfwood had killed or injured others before reaching her. What had that teddy bear been? She had recognized it, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember from what? Immediately following the incident, the sheriff had taken the various things that the assailant had left in Vash's room. As evidence, he had assured her, though they both realized that someone who had taken down the Humanoid Typhoon was not likely to be taken in by any authority.  
  
Where had she seen that bear? It was out of context, so it was difficult. But she didn't know many children to begin with...only the few that Vash had interacted with and her niece--  
  
The Whiskey bottle she'd been cradling with half of a mind crashed to the floor.  
  
Nicole?'  
  
She didn't know for sure. She shouldn't assume. She hadn't seen or heard from her sister in awhile it was true, but that bear.  
  
_Say hi to Auntie Meryl now. Her sister shoved the unwilling and shy child away from her legs and towards Meryl. Give her a second, Meryl. She takes the whole Not talking to strangers' thing very seriously. A slight laugh. Come on, say hi, Nicole._  
  
Nicole.  
  
_Nicole buried her face in her mother's leg, looking crosswise at Meryl.  
  
Don't worry about it, if she doesn't want to meet me, we can meet later. Meryl didn't especially understand kids, but felt that there might be crying out of this one if her sister forced too hard.  
  
No, this is really not like her. Her sister frowned and patted the child's head. Nicole, remember what I said about manners? You're being very rude here. The child shook her head and pouted for a second, but at another warning glance from her mother, let go of her leg and stepped sorrowfully towards her aunt.  
  
She didn't meet Meryl's eyes, I'm Nicole. This is Nickie. She proffered the stuffed animal clutched in her tiny hands. Nice to meetya. Turning back to her mother, Can I go now? Her mother sighed and nodded, before ushering Meryl in the house to have tea._  
  
This time it was Millie talking to her, not the orderly. She was using Meryl's name even. Meryl must have her totally worried.  
  
That was Nicole's bear... Millie looked at her quizzically. Nicole? But that's your-- And her face went through several changes all at once: confused, horrified, worried, and settling on anger. Are you sure?   
  
Yes...I don't know...I think so... The image was crystal clear, the bear was in her hands once again, bloodied and heavy...too heavy for a mere stuffed animal. She closed her eyes, holding back the urge to scream. Now was not the time to lose it. This whole situation was utterly insane.  
  
Mis---Meryl...you have to be sure. Millie's voice was oddly somber for her. Her eyes were hard, staring at something Meryl couldn't see.  
  
What? What did they find?  
  
I went to the sheriff to see if he had found the bad man, her choice of words seemed oddly incongruous with her tone of voice, And he hadn't, but he had looked at the teddy bear. She swallowed, almost nervously, Are you sure it's Nicole's?  
  
I don't know. I only saw it once, but I don't know that many kids...maybe it's some other-- Meryl threw her hands up helplessly. I don't want it to be. I fear it is though. None of this makes sense. What did they find?  
  
Millie said nothing for a second, adjusting herself to move her feet out of the glass shards from the broken bottle of liquor.  
  
  
  
I--they--the man took the bear and ripped out all of the stuffing. And he put--someone's... Her voice caught in her throat. Some people's, she corrected herself softly, ...parts...in it. He...he hurt or killed some people and put parts of them in the bear he gave you. The sheriff has an alert on the radio, but no one has reported back yet. The bear...  
  
Meryl couldn't believe she was hearing this. This was not real, couldn't be. Wolfwood, Vash shot, and some people murdered or maimed and given to her in a child's toy. In something that she was hoping with all of her might was not her niece's bear, as awful as that sounded. What sorts of... But Millie was sobbing now, her shoulders heaving. A high pitched keening could be heard through the hands mashed against her face. Oh Millie... The cool she'd kept on the entire evening began to crack, and she found tears streaming down her face as well.  
  
T-this is just awful... Why are people so evil?  
  
I don't know, Millie, I don't know. Their arms were around each other, soaking each other's coats with their tears. After both of them quieted down slightly, only shuddering occasionally but preferring to remain within the warm safety of the other's comforting arms. Meryl felt damp, drained, and dirty. And tired. For the first time she was feeling that she'd been up since dawn and had been under intense stress for the latter half of her day. Or latter quarter, whatever.  
  
In front of them, the orderly burst through the swinging doors, his face at once drawn and hopeful. Um... Ma'am? Um...it's over. He's safe! He'll be okay! He was cut off by a doctor emerging from the room behind him, scooting the orderly to the side with a wave of his hand.  
  
He'll be okay, but he is still in a coma. He's lost a lot of blood, but he seems to have a remarkable tenacity. It's a wonder he's alive. The doctor pushed his glasses up on his nose and shook his head wearily. It's a miracle, ladies. You were very lucky. He--was very lucky.  
  
Out of the room the lady doctor from the bar emerged, carrying a clipboard, worrying a pen cap in her mouth. Seeing them, she removed the cap and smiled tiredly at them. I assume he told you, Vash is going to recover. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. He's still asleep, but that is probably largely due to the shock of the loss of blood and the anesthesia combined. So, while he won't be dancing or... She paused for a moment, evidently finding what she had been about to say highly inappropriate given the circumstances, He'll be awake and stable. If you want, we've gotten permission from the hospital for one of you to stay in there with him this evening, if it will ease your mind.  
  
Thank you. Meryl's voice was rough. Millie nodded at her, encouraging her to go into the room and watch over him, as she knew Meryl would have done anyway.  
  
Millie's voice was soft, Try to get some sleep though. The sheriff said he had all of his men around this ward. You'll be okay tonight. I'll go check in and see about your family. Don't worry. Just watch Mr. Vash.  
  
Meryl swallowed before the doorway. She still hadn't told Millie about Wolfwood, hadn't really told anyone anything substantial about what had occurred in Vash's room. And she didn't think that any man who could take out Vash himself would be stopped by local officials. But she was too tired and too depressed and angry to care anymore. All she wanted to see was that Vash was asleep, breathing easily. Breathing deeply was a start, and the fact that he continued to was enough to give her some sort of hope.  
  
Tomorrow she would go see about tracking down the pieces and seeing what was going on here. Tomorrow she would contemplate what this meant. Tomorrow she would begin to find that man, so that she could hurt him for hurting those dear to her. And after it was all done, she would let herself cry for as long as it took. But until then, no weaknesses.  
  
Goodnight, Miss Meryl. Millie messily blew her nose before putting on a brave face and trying to smile. Try to sleep.  
  
You too. Millie turned to leave, And Millie? Thank you. Millie tried to smile again, sniffled, and exited.  
  
Meryl herself entered the room that the doctors directed her towards, settling in the chair beside the bed heavily. Electronics buzzed and whirred as IVs dripped their contents into his arms. He looked as tired as she felt, and she settled herself in, watching as he drew breath of his own power.   
  
And thank you, she whispered, If you had died, I might have gone and done something really stupid. She sighed, and before she'd even realized it, her head had settled on her shoulders and she was asleep, her whispery breaths matching Vash's own.  
---  
  
Outside the window to Vash's hospital room, a lone figure perched on the hospital wall. Seeing the girl's---_Meryl's_---head sink onto the patient's--_Vash's_--bed, her hair sliding over his shoulder.  
  
the man muttered to himself before hopping off the wall. Makes me hungry.   
  
Taking one last glance at them, he stepped lightly into the dark. Seeing them had made him think of something, but he couldn't quite recall what it was. Or who it was, as a flash of something that felt feminine struck his memory. Hm. Blue eyes. Odd. Whatever it was, the man formerly known as Nicholas D. Wolfwood was more concerned with his own appetite at the moment than the half memory of a face. It was one of the advantages to being a blank slate. No concerns. No worries. And now, no fears.  
  
Behind him, the first sun began to creep beyond the horizon. It was a brand new day. Shining and limitless in its possibilities. This too excited Wolfwood.   
  
What would she do now?  
  
This would be fun.  
  
---  
  
Author's Notes: I'm on crack. Seriously. I've been listening to RBF's Somebody Hates Me' entirely too much and I totally believe it to be gospel truth now. So go on, flame away, my bitches. I'm prepped. : )


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